A Love That Lasts Forever
by Yukito-sama
Summary: (Chap1 up)What if love lasted for ever and the people that never attained that love could have another chance? Erik is reborn and soon life begins to repeat itself. Will Erik have his love or will it be stolen?(better summary in the Prologue)
1. Prologue

A/N- Hey there! I wrote another story. Spiffy, ain't it?? Well, lemme tell you about it. Since I have more   
  
space I can extend the summary. Here goes:  
  
  
What if love lasted for ever and the people that never attained that love could have another chance? Years   
after Erik died, and the people he once knew, tortured, and loved followed, he was reborn into a similar life   
but with the absence of his deformity. The past repeats itself, though, and his face does receive the scares it   
knew before. Erik soon meets Christine, who was blessed in being reborn with her same name, at an   
audition for a college musical. Their friendship blossoms into love, but that love becomes compromised.   
Will Erik relive the life he had when he lived beneath the Paris Opera house, losing Christine to another man   
and reducing to murder as the only way to get her? Or will Erik manage to have Christine as he dreamed of   
when he lived before?  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Prologue  
  
  
Darkness settled over the city hours ago. A chilled air drifted through the streets, hinting at the end   
of summer and the beginning of autumn. As the moon reached it's peak in the night sky Erik had taken a   
break from his continuing work. He left his loft, leaving a single light on as some type of comfort, and   
began to wander the streets. He took nothing but his house keys and put on a trench coat that he only wore   
during the cooling weather. Erik hated the cold of the north, but preferred it far more than the constant heat   
that you found in the southern states.  
  
Erik walked through the deserted streets that enveloped the downtown area. In the earlier parts of   
the twentieth century the downtown region would be the highlight of the city. These days it was   
downtrodden and over run with tall business buildings a growing number of wandering homeless people.   
During the nights, though, they seemed to disappear, taking their shelter in the few shelters around this area.   
The others were on the other side of town, too far for them to wander at times.  
  
The streetlights changed for unseen cars and Erik walked through the streets like a ghost. The   
solitude of the night seemed friendlier than the day. Erik spent his time in his loft composing music and   
painting. Being only twenty he had no need for any school. At the young age of ten it was proven that he   
was a genius and that school would soon bore him. Erik's mother didn't listen and soon found out that the   
doctors and teachers were right. He was prone to fits of rage and would seem to go deaf when ever he   
chose. Erik was quickly removed and taught at home by a family friend who was a professor at the city's   
college. His mind soon reached farther than his teacher. At sixteen Erik left home, becoming friends with a   
lawyer and taking up business with the college.  
  
A sudden gust of wind whipped around the building and through the streets. Erik shuddered and   
raised the collar of his coat. He cursed the weather, wishing that it wouldn't be so harsh. The wind   
wouldn't comply and continued to blow. Erik continued his walk happy that the wind quickly changed it's   
course so it pushed him along.  
  
"My hat!"  
  
Erik turned sharply as the voice whipped by him with the wind. He didn't see the person but saw   
the hat flying with the aid of the wind. Erik gingerly lifted his hand into the air, as the hat blew by him. His   
  
fingers took hold of the cap's bill and he pulled it from the force. He looked down at the worn article and   
frowned slightly. It was a plain hat. A black baseball cap that seemed to be worn every where through any   
type of weather.  
  
"Hey man! Thanks."  
  
"What?" Erik asked pulling himself from his train of thought. His eyes came over the hat's owner.   
It was a man a year or two older than he was and shorter as well. He was dressed nicely, wearing designer   
clothes and nice shoes. The man's strawberry blonde was tousled from the wind and his face flushed from   
his sprint and failure to catch his hat.  
  
The man smiled. "I just said thanks. I didn't think I'd get my hat. Lucky you were around." He   
paused for a moment and studied Erik for a moment. He seemed to be stunned by Erik's height and air of   
power and mystery. His skin was light, his eyes were a soft brown that seemed to reflect any type of light,   
and his black his hung free and unkempt, whisking slightly behind his ears. "God, your tall."  
  
Erik chuckled and held out the black baseball cap. "Not really."  
  
"How tall are you?" the man asked. He took his baseball cap out of Erik's hand and put it on. He   
fixed his hair and looked Erik over again. "People always tell me I'm tall, but, man, you're fuckin' huge!"  
  
The smile on Erik's face faded slightly and he narrowed his eyes. "I'm just a just a few inches over   
six feet. I would also suggest you refrain from those vulgar words; they aren't becoming of you." Erik   
turned away from the stranger and put his hands in his pockets. "Have a good night."  
  
"Wait up! We're headin' the same way." the man said with a soft smile. He caught up with Erik,   
who obviously seemed annoyed with him. The man ignored it and continued to walk in step with the strange   
man. "So, whatcha doin' walkin' around this late at night?"  
  
Erik straight ahead, not wanting to look at the man. He felt obliged to reply to the question, being   
raised with the manners of a saint. "I'm just going for a walk. I've been up trying to get something done for   
my opera but I can't do a damn thing. Taking a walk seemed like it would clear my mind. The night is just   
perfect for it. Something out here might inspire me." Erik glanced at his temporary companion. The man   
seemed to be off in his own world. Erik let out a sigh. "And what are you doing out? Heading to the strip   
joint up the street, I suppose."  
  
The man laughed. "There is no way in hell I'd end up there." He smiled happily and looked at   
Erik. "I am on my way to meet a beautiful woman I've been seeing for the past few months. I really like her   
and I think this relationship may last a loooong time."  
  
"I wish you luck." Erik replied softly. He glanced around and made the decision he'd leave this   
man. "Well, I'm going down this street. Good night." The man waved his farewell and let Erik go on his   
way. Erik was happy that the man didn't follow. "Thank you god." he whispered as he continued through   
the deserted streets.  
  
Time slowly passed as Erik moved on. He ran into only a few other people. A few rare hookers;   
he passed by them as if they weren't there, ignoring their voices. The usual drunk wandered out of a bar,   
tripping over their own feet and nearly vomiting in the street. The only people that Erik felt compelled to   
notice were the few homeless people along the streets. They were rare downtown, living nearer to the   
homeless shelters that was further uptown. Erik would hand out two dollars to the few that were there,   
acting like an angel of mercy.  
  
Erik began to wander back towards his loft, tracing steps of old. The alleys were empty of any   
living creature. The smell of mold and garbage lingered in the stale air. Erik was nauseated by the smell but   
found that this was the quickest route home. There were not long sidewalks and no buildings to walk   
around. The alleys cut through everything and the empty streets made it easy to jog across to the next   
winding area of alleyways.  
  
A muffled meow caught Erik's wandering attention. He came to a stop and looked around. The   
sound came again and Erik slowly followed it. He got down onto his knees and began to push around the   
damp papers on the ground. As Erik pulled free the mess the meow came again and he soon found the   
source of the pitiful sound. A small Siamese kitten was curled up beneath mess, dirty and visibly hungry.   
One of it's small legs was scratched and the kitten, between looking at Erik and meowing, would lick the   
wound slowly.  
  
"You poor thing." Erik whispered. He touched the cat, amazed that it didn't mind the stranger's   
touch. He smiled weakly, pitying the small creature Erik stood, cradling the Siamese kitten and slowly   
stroking it's fur. "Its a good thing I found you." he said, beginning to travel through the alley. "I don't   
think you would've lived too long by yourself. With a warm place to live during the winter and some food,   
you'll be as good as new. You can stay with me. As odd as it may seem, it feels like you belong with me."  
  
"Oh how sweet. Seems like we have a nut in our midst's."  
  
Erik spun around, clutching the kitten protectively. He watched as four men emerged from the   
shadows of the alley. They ranged in age and race, but they all had one thing in common; they were strong.   
Each on held a weapon; a knife, a chain, a broken bottle, and a bat. Grins wrapped around their faces as   
their fingers flexed and gripped the weapons they held.  
  
"I don't want any trouble." Erik said. He edged to a wall and placed the kitten down on a box.   
He eyed the four men as they slowly approached him. Erik fished out his wallet, which only held about a   
hundred dollars and a group of discount cards. "Is this what you want? You can take it. I have no need for   
any of it."  
  
Erik tossed the wallet at the men and one of 'em grabbed it. They all examined what was inside   
and seemed a bit disappointed. One turned to watch Erik as the others whispered out an obvious plan. Erik   
was beginning to wish he had some type of way to defend himself. The only thing that came to mind was   
that his anger could do the job. It was known, in his family and circle of friends, that Erik had problems   
containing his anger and would lash out at anyone and anything. He could only hope that it would happen   
when he wanted it.  
  
The bigger man of the bunch stepped forward, his hand wrapped with a blood stained chain. He   
looked at Erik and smiled. A few teeth were missing and his breath reeked of booze. "The money isn't   
quite enough, but we can live with that. We just gotta show ya that at night this area belongs to us and we   
don't need no fuckin' pricks wandering about talkin' to themselves." The man fixed the chain on his hand.   
"I just want you to stay still."  
  
Before anything else could happen Erik struck the man square in the face. The man fell backwards,   
screaming in pain. Blood flowed from his broken nose and a tooth fell from his mouth. His friends took this   
as their cue to strike. They mobbed Erik, swinging their weapons and yelling at him with every thing they   
had. Erik retaliated quickly, punching and kicking whom ever he could. He felt something cut through his   
skin, but the pain didn't register. Erik lashed out at the owner of the bat, taking it from him and using it as   
his own weapon. After a few minuets, though, only one remained standing.  
  
Erik breathed heavily, his bleeding hands wrapped around the bat.. His jacket was slashed, as was   
his shirt beneath it. Blood was soaking through the cut clothes and it trickled down his skin. His eyes bore   
into the last man standing, waiting for the man to make his move. The knife in his hand was clean and   
glistened in the dim moonlight.  
  
Without a single word the man kicked the bat from Erik's hand, spinning around to hit him in the   
face with the handle of his knife. Erik stumbled into the wall and sunk to the ground. The pain of every   
wound hit him at once and his body didn't know how to react. Erik tried to stand but his legs wouldn't   
listen to his own commands.  
  
In moments the attacker kicked Erik so he was laying on the ground. He straddled Erik, punching   
his chest and face until Erik laid still, forcing himself to breath for the moment. The attacker smirked and   
suddenly racked his knife across Erik's face. Erik screamed and soon the man began to slash at Erik's face   
feverishly, as if he was possessed.  
  
A gunshot suddenly sounded through the alley. The man's eyes widened and he suddenly slumped   
backwards, the bullet caught in the back of his neck. Erik didn't move. He stared into the night sky, his   
right eye blurry with his own blood. He whispered a prayer to anything that was listening. Erik couldn't tell   
how bad his face was slashed but the pain gave him a clue.  
  
"Shit! Mark, call for an ambulance. The guy is still alive." An officer suddenly appeared in Erik's   
gaze. The man was about forty, his face weathered by age and years on the police force. He knelt beside   
Erik, who turned his face to watch him. "Are you okay, sir?"  
  
Erik winced in pain as he blinked. "I'm fine. My face. How bad is it?"  
  
"Don't worry, sir. We've radioed for the paramedics and they'll be here any second." The officer   
said, trying poorly to console Erik.  
  
"What did he do to my face?" Erik asked, his voice filling with anger.  
  
The officer looked off to someone out of Erik's range. "Mark, get me some towels to put under   
this guy's head."  
  
Erik seized the officer's collar, pulling his face close to his. The officer's eyes widened as fear   
poured into them. "What did the bastard do to my face? Tell me."  
  
"C-calm down, sir." the officer stuttered. He pulled away from Erik's powerful grip and stood.   
The alley way soon filled with the flashing lights and the siren of the paramedics. "Help is here. The doctors   
will explain everything." The officer hurried off towards the flashing lights. 


	2. Chapter one

A/N--- Sorry for the long wait on this chapter. Things have been hell. I had writer's block(I get major   
cases of this from time to time), I'm going to be starting college soon so I was getting that stuff ready, and   
my dog died, which caused me to be a little depressed for a day or two. Things are better now and I'm sorry   
if this chapter isn't that good. I tried my best.  
  
  
  
  
  
Chapter one  
A month later  
  
  
  
Erik sat comfortably in one of the lush, velvet chairs of the Coronado Theatre. He looked out at   
the stage and seats with a reflection of annoyance in his eyes. None of these people had true talent. A few   
came close, though, which was rare since most of them had little or no teaching at all. The one thing that   
annoyed Erik above all of this was the stares he recived. It had been a month since he was attacked and the   
wounds he bore weren't those of a pleasant nature. Taking it unto himself, Erik worked for a week to make   
a mask to cover his scarred face and he achieved it. He always wore it, taking it off only to bathe and sleep   
and had a few different designs for a difference in taste.  
  
There was no reason for Erik to attend the auditions. His purpose in the musical was playing the   
piano, which he took pride in. Before every performance Erik would take to his piano, dressed in his best,   
and begin to play his own pieces and sometimes those of the best composers of old. Erik enjoyed playing   
Beethoven's Moonlight Sonata. The song was graceful and soothing. There were times where he'd play the   
song for himself for hours. Music came natural to him and he played when ever he could. One of his most   
powerful instruments was his own voice, which he rarely showcased. He never bothered to sing for reasons   
beyond his logic.  
  
Slowly the auditions continued. Erik sat in the back row of the theatre, listening and watching the   
people try their chance at singing. Every so often Erik would jot something down on a notepad he brought.   
He had some say in the casting and he was going to take full advantage of it. He wanted to know what and   
who he was going to work with before hand. He enjoyed seeing them before any of them knew who exactly   
he was. Erik was, in fact, the vocal instructor for the musical. He was grateful that the college had allowed   
him an assistant, due to his 'injuries.'  
  
Erik gathered his things, deciding that this was enough torture for one day. He had his mind set on   
a nice evening alone. His score needed tending to and the kitten that he had found the moth earlier seemed   
to miss him excessively, even if he left the loft for ten minuets. Erik adored the kitten, naming Ayoka which   
seemed a perfect fit for the creature; it simply meant 'one who causes joy.' That is all that the kitten did,   
bring joy into Erik's fractured world.  
  
The lobby of the Coronado was breathtaking. Erik had visited the theatre many times since it's   
reopening. The place was a world unto itself. Erik had lost himself in thought many a time in this building.   
He sketched renderings of the rooms and had written parts of his score within those walls. The theatre was   
his home and the birth place of his inspiration. It seemed all too natural for him, but Erik never questioned   
the source of his enlightenment.  
  
"Raindrops on roses and whiskers on kittens, bright copper kettles and warm woolen mittens,   
brown paper packages tied up with strings; these are a few of my favorite things."  
  
Erik froze as he heard the singing voice drift through the still air. The voice was pure and as sweet   
as could be; nearly flawless. Something within him stirred as the voice hit the notes perfectly. The voice   
sounded familiar, as if he had heard it some where before. It wrenched his heart and tears began to form in   
his soft brown eyes. Erik followed the voice without much thought. He had to see who contained such an   
angelic voice.  
  
As Erik rounded the bend of the wall he came to a sudden stop. Sitting on the ground, in a door   
frame, was a petite, young creature. Her hair was a deep brown and tumbled around, curling softly and   
naturally. The girl was dressed in black dress pants and a khaki colored blouse, enhancing the soft glow of   
her fair skin. In her delicate hands she held a copy of the musical's score.  
  
"Cream colored ponies and crisp apple strudels, doorbells and sleighbells, and schnitzel with   
noodles." The girl paused and groaned softly. She shook her head and took in a deep breath. "Wild geese   
that fly with the moon on their wings, these are a few of my favorite things."  
  
Erik smiled softly and leaned against the wall. He watched the girl, from his few feet of distance, as   
she flipped through the book. She muttered to herself and paused on a page. The girl chuckled to herself   
and closed the book. She held it against her chest and let out a heavy sigh. Erik's smile faded as he sensed   
the insecurity the girl had.  
  
"You have the voice of an angel." Erik whispered, just loud enough for the girl to hear.  
  
The girl jumped and turned around quickly. Her eyes were wide with the sudden surprise and she   
breathed in heavily. Her eyes studied Erik's face and he turned his eyes away, not wanting to watch the girl   
take in the burden he held over his face. He heard her soft intake of air and listened as she gathered her   
things so she could stand.  
  
"I'm sorry if I frightened you." Erik said, slowly turning his face towards the girl. She was   
clutching the musical's score to her chest protectively. "I heard you singing and I couldn't help but follow   
it. You have talent. You're voice is the best I've heard all day."  
  
A soft smile crossed the girl's face and her cheeks grew rosy. Erik returned the smile. He took a   
step forward, amazed that she didn't retreat. The girl's eyes studied Erik once more, this time with a kinder,   
gentler sense to them. She held an innocence that one would see in a child that still believed in fair tales and   
stories of knights rescuing maidens.  
  
"Do. . . . Do you really think I have a good voice?" she asked softly. She looked down   
nervously, blushing slightly.  
  
Erik smiled. "Yes, and I know what I'm talking about." He began to circle the girl, slowly   
examining her. Not only did she have a beautiful voice, her childlike looks and innocent aura would take her   
far in the field of theatre. "My name is Erik. I am the vocal instructor for the musical and I give private   
lessons for whom ever feels the need to learn." He handed her a card, which stated his name and his   
address, where all of his lessons were taught.  
  
The girl's eyes widened with joy and a sparkle appeared in them. "You give lessons?"  
  
"Yes, but very few these days." Erik replied returning to his original point. He met the girl's gaze   
and her cheeks grew rosy. Erik turned his eyes away quickly. "It seems that no one wants music lessons   
from a man who wears a mask." Erik paused for a moment, glancing at the girl from the corner of his eye.   
She was watching him carefully, her eyes full of compassion and seeming to look beyond the mask he wore.   
"What is your name?"  
  
"Oh! I'm sorry." the girl said, laughing nervously. She pushed back a lock of her curly hair and   
blushed bashfully. "I'm Christine."  
  
Erik froze for a second. The name struck a cord within him. It was too familiar. True, he had   
heard the name many times before, but coming from this girl it seemed all too different. The name, her   
voice, her face, her entire being, it all seemed to fit perfectly. She seemed too familiar and her name made it   
seem like he had met her sometime before.  
  
"Um, can I ask you something?" Christine said, finally breaking the awkward moment of silence.   
She was rolling a corner of one of the score's pages.  
  
"Yes." Erik replied softly. He had a feeling what she was going to ask. She wanted to know about   
his mask; everyone did. They wanted to know why he wore it and what happened to him . The scars he still   
held were his true burden. He was a genius, shut away from the world due to the accident that occurred a   
month earlier. Everyone was curious about what lays beneath the porcelain face, but it is nothing more than   
a nightmare.  
  
Christine let out a heavy sigh. "I was wondering if you could give me singing lessons." She   
seemed slightly alarmed by Erik's surprised reaction. "If it's okay with you. I mean, the musical might be a   
handful and you do have other students. I don't want to be a burden."  
  
"Christine, you couldn't possibly be a burden." Erik said with a soft, reassuring smile. Christine   
smiled in return, happy with the response. Erik took a step closer to her and slowly touched her face. He   
examined her more closely, something he tended to do to find facial structure. The structure of one's face,   
as Erik had found, determined the voice it held.  
  
"You have a beautiful face." Erik whispered. He paused, looking into Christine's eyes. She let out   
a wavering breath as the two looked into each other's eyes. Erik's heart skipped a beat as a feeling of de ja   
vu began to sweep over him. He slowly pulled away from Christine, feeling he might frighten, not only her,   
but himself.  
  
"Thank you." Christine replied, finally coming to her senses. She blushed wildly and smiled softly.   
"So, will you teach me to sing?"  
  
Erik took Christine's hand into his own. She took in a deep breath, somewhat shocked by his   
actions. He smiled softly and looked at Christine. "You can already sing, I can only lift your voice to it's   
fullest power so that even the angels in heaven can hear it. Soon, you will make the world weep at the   
sound of your voice." He pulled away from Christine and ran a hand through his hair. He eyed her for a   
moment. "If you wish to strengthen your voice, come to my loft this afternoon. I will teach and guide you,   
Christine. You will become the very angel of music."  
  
  
**********  
  
  
"I swear. Erik tends to become stranger every day." Andrew growled as he shoved the two large   
folders into his briefcase. He paused, glancing at Richard who was lounging in one of the seats happily.   
Andrew frowned. "I take it you really don't care." Richard looked at Andrew and smiled happily.  
  
The two were the directors for the year's musical, both nearing their forty years of life. Andrew   
was the younger of the two and seemed to take the role of director rather serious. Richard was serious   
about the job as well, but was laid back during the auditions. They both were teachers at the city's college,   
teaching Theatre or Shakespearean Literature.  
  
"Erik is a smart child, Andrew." Richard replied, stretching. He stood and slowly strolled over to   
his comrade. "He's a little on the creepy side, but who isn't?"  
  
Andrew narrowed his eyes angrily. He closed his briefcase and looked Richard square in the face.   
"Erik isn't creepy, this man is down right horrifying! I mean, one would consider to have some type of   
surgery after an accident like his. He has enough money, he can find a great doctor to piece his face   
together." Andrew shuddered. He closed his eyes and took a seat. "That mask of his tends to frighten me   
beyond imagination. Can you believe he created that thing himself? That bastard of a genius has too much   
time on his hands."  
  
With a smile Richard took a seat next to Andrew and sighed. He propped his feet up on the seat in   
front of him, getting comfortable once more. "You know, Andrew, this is just his way of taking care of   
what's happened to him. I've been a friend of his family for years and I've seen him in just about every   
situation. Erik is stubborn, but he knows what's good for him."   
Richard looked at the empty stage as he slipped into the memories of Erik's childhood. One   
memory that always stuck out was the year Erik turned six; it was the year he discovered what death was.   
Erik's mother had guests over, his father died a year after he was born and the widow never bothered to   
remarry. It was summer and the windows were open, letting the warm breeze through. A mouse was   
spotted beneath the coffee table, eating crumbs the guest had dropped. Every woman in that house   
screamed upon the sight of the creature. Erik ran from his room to see what was wrong. He was in time to   
see his mother's cat pounce on the defenseless mouse and break it's neck with one move. It took weeks for   
the nightmares to cease.  
  
"Has he ever acted like this though?" Andrew ask, breaking through Richard's memory.  
  
"No." Richard replied solemnly. "Erik knows he nearly died and he isn't rather fond of that   
thought. Rather than rid himself of the memory, he hides it beneath the mask."  
  
Andrew shook his head and stood. He took his briefcase and slipped on his jacket. Richard   
followed his friend to the doors of the Coronado. The sky outside was blanketed with storm clouds.   
Lightning flashed in the sky and thunder followed. Slowly a few drops of rain began to fall and the several   
people wandering the street began to scatter.  
  
"Damn." Andrew sighed. He shifted his suitcase from one hand to the other and pulled out a   
compact umbrella from a jacket pocket. "When should we get together to figure out the cast? I'm pretty   
much free this whole week."  
  
"We can do it this weekend." Richard replied. He pulled out the keys to the theatre's doors and   
clutched them. "I have a very good idea of who should be our leading lady."  
  
"Really?" Andrew asked, arching an eyebrow.  
  
Richard nodded with a smile. "Her name is Carla Monroe. She's a soprano and a wonderful   
actress. With some time spent with Erik, Carla's voice will be pristine. "  
  
"And Erik is okay with this?" Andrew asked.  
  
"Don't worry. I don't think Erik would really mind." Richard laughed. "Besides, we're the   
directors. We have final say so in who plays whom." 


End file.
